


Pink Shells

by literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M, Poetry, Sadstuck, poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-31
Updated: 2013-03-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 01:43:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/742707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte/pseuds/literaryFRIVOLOUSneophyte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Feferi liked pink. Eridan would make her necklaces out of pink shells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pink Shells

She liked pink.  
Eridan would, along the beach,  
collect shells.  
Fruity colors -  
cranberry chipped,  
intricate with raspberry designs.  
Flowery colors -  
lavender cut clean  
in half from being  
thrown against rocks  
until it found the beach,  
and a brittle violet  
piece of a  
lost whole.  
For her.  
All as fuchsia as her heart.  
Feferi wore it until the day  
they were caught in the ocean without his lusus.  
Her mouth filled with water  
so dark it was violet,  
too salty to swallow  
but too strong to spit out.  
And the tide  
tore it from her neck.  
That day was the worst  
for a swim along the shore  
what with  
a storm boiling in the clouds -  
he remembered her fear,  
more cold than  
an ocean swell,  
but hot in his arms,  
sparking less like life  
and more like panic.  
He made her another shell necklace,  
but she didn't wear it  
on her princess neck.  
She kept it in her hive  
bundled up in some trunk  
or some jewelry box  
with a golden lock,  
and she most likely  
never looked at it again.  
Cuttlefish probably swam off with it.  
Not good enough for  
the Empress,  
or the little girl  
that cried when she  
stubbed her toe on  
a rock, a red bruise,  
and she didn't wear  
sandals for days.  
Or when she got clams  
in her hair,  
and he had to cut off  
a slender, black braid,  
but it was too precious  
to throw away  
so he kept the strand  
in his pocket.  
But, back then, a mouthful  
of fierce water  
pushed to the back of his throat  
so he choked but held on  
to the necklace of pink shells  
until it was washed out of his grip,  
clinging to Feferi  
and sobbing, but swimming up, too.  
He should have held onto those shells  
tighter, but not tight enough to  
hurt Feferi and make her scream  
a dying animal's shriek,  
because he lost the braid  
when his lusus threw out  
his old pair of pants,  
but didn't empty the pockets first.  
So now Eridan listens to  
the crunch of sand  
under his boots,  
military gear fit for a seadweller,  
and can pick out  
from the pebbles  
the rosy smooth ones.  
He isn't sure if he cherishes  
or fears  
the close sound  
of the pink shells breaking underfoot.


End file.
